The Bluebird and the Sparrow
by Cielita
Summary: Set immediately after the events of the film. Cain and Glitch come to realize that there is more to love than what they think. Cain/Glitch, DG/Jeb. My first Tin Man fic! Be nice!
1. Chapter 1

"**The Bluebird and the Sparrow"**

Glitch slid a tarnished key into the lock of a long unused door and it turned stiffly. When it finally yielded and the door was opened, he took a tentative step inside and stopped. The air was stale, unmoved by the time he'd spent away. He took another step, lightly fingering the five years worth of dust that had collected on the furniture and took a shuddering breath.

"Glitch?"

The former Royal Advisor turned and produced a smile. He re-traced his steps back to the door still grinning in hopes that his visitor didn't get too much of a glance at the room.

"DG! What brings you all the way up here?" he said nervously. DG's blue eyes were wide with concern.

"You left the table pretty fast tonight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. My mother said that your room was up here, so I came to see if that's where you'd gone…she must know you pretty well if she predicted you'd be here," DG said.

"Yeah…" said Glitch, his smile faltering. "I guess she does." DG seemed to see past him into the room and her expression turned to one of shock.

"Oh my God…how long has it been since you were home?" she gasped, moving around him into the room. He muttered something unintelligible and DG asked the question again, this time resting her hand on his arm. "Glitch…how long?"

"Five years…" Glitch said softly. "I…I've been running for five years." He looked at the floor, thick dust covering what once was smooth, cherry-colored hardwood, and the tattered bed skirt on his large, four-posted, curtained bed. He remained where he was as DG took another couple of steps and looked around the room, bit her lip, and then turned back to her friend.

"But you can't sleep here when it's like this! Let me help you get it cleaned up," DG insisted.

"Oh, no, DG," Glitch protested, shaking his head and raising his arms in front of his chest. "A princess doesn't help former royal advisors clean out their musty bedrooms."

"Maybe not. But a friend does," DG said, returning to his side.

"I can't…I shouldn't…what were we arguing about again?" Glitch said looking around and scratching his head very near the zipper that ran down the middle of his cranium.

"Glitch…" DG said sympathetically, leaning in to give him a hug. He briefly returned her embrace but continued to look off at the dirty window—he wouldn't let DG see him cry, he just wouldn't…

"What's wrong, Glitch? Just talk to me," DG said, looking up at him.

"No room…there's no room," Glitch muttered, turning to walk out of the room back into the corridor.

"What do you mean there's no room?" DG asked, following him.

"I haven't lived here in five years, DG. I'm not the royal advisor anymore. I don't belong in that room anymore and…I don't have anywhere to go," Glitch gushed. He was clenching his teeth now—that dust must have really been heavy to have gotten into his eyes so quickly.

"Like hell you don't belong here!" DG cried. Glitch flinched.

"A princess really shouldn't say things like that," he said nervously.

"Why would you think a thing like that?" DG demanded, ignoring his comment about her behavior.

"A thing like what, DG?" Ahamo said as he entered that part of the corridor with his lavender-eyed queen on his arm. Glitch collapsed to one knee, bowed his head and lowered his eyes as they approached.

"Why, darling, you're upset! What is it?" the queen asked.

"Glitch—I mean Ambrose—thinks he doesn't belong here anymore!" DG told them.

"That's absurd," Ahamo replied gently, still smiling. The queen released her hold on her husband's arm and went to Glitch, kneeling gracefully in front of him and lifting his chin with her dainty hand.

"I won't hear of it," she said softly. "If I am to rule again, I will need my advisor beside me." Glitch moved his gaze downward again, murmuring, "Your majesty…you mustn't bow to me." The queen smiled radiantly, used both hands to cup his face and once again he looked at her.

"My dear friend," she said, stroking his cheek with her left hand. "I'll have no one else in the position but you." She stood as gracefully as she had bent low before and extended her hand to him. He gazed at her as if she'd just saved him from drowning and finally smiled. He lightly kissed the queen's hand and rose, still looking around shyly at anything but his friends.

"Isn't there something we can do about his room?" DG asked after a few moments of silence. The queen joined DG at the door to the room, glanced around, and then took DG's left hand in both of hers. Together, the two breathed magic into the room, a heavy breeze sweeping the furniture, linens, curtains, wardrobe, and every other thing in reach. Seconds later, Glitch looked around the room in awe.

"Is that better?" the queen asked, her hands on DG's shoulders as they smiled. Glitch sat down gingerly on the edge of his bed and stammered, "I don't know what to say!"

"How about 'I'll stay'?" DG offered. "How about 'yes, your majesty'?" The Queen smilingly admonished her young daughter as Glitch looked down, nodded, and then looked up again with tears in his eyes.

"Yes, your majesties…I'll stay."

"Yes!" DG cried, crossing the room to hug him again.

"I think she got her powers of persuasion from me," Ahamo said, offering his arm to his queen again as she laughed.

"Come along, DG, my darling. I have a feeling that we might need those persuasion skills for our friend Mr. Cain, next," the queen teased. DG stood and turned to smile at Glitch again when she got to the door.

"Get some sleep, Mr. Royal Advisor. You're due in the infirmary at nine hours in the morning," DG said.

"The infirmary?" Glitch echoed.

"Unless you don't want your brain back where it belongs?" DG teased.

"Yes! Oh, yes, of course!" Glitch cried, smiling back at her. "Good night, princess."

"Good night, Gl—I mean, good night, Ambrose."

Glitch slowly reclined back against the coverlet and tucked his hands beneath his head.

"Yes…" he whispered, yawning as he nodded off. "Good night, Ambrose."

*************

"You want me to *what*?" Cain said in shock when the king and queen asked him to stay and become the Captain of the Guard. "You've got the wrong guy."

"On the contrary, I believe we have precisely the right 'guy'," said the queen.

"You showed great strength and courage when you helped DG, and we see no reason that you couldn't continue to be just as strong and courageous here in Central City," Ahamo said.

"Being Captain of the Guard takes tact and patience, neither of which I'm particularly good at," Cain insisted, stuffing his things into his pack.

"Well, obviously," DG said, rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest.

"DG…" the queen murmured, afraid that she might inadvertently convince Cain that he was correct.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cain asked, looking up from his pack.

"This isn't exactly a job people give out lightly. It's an honor that they're even talking to you right now," DG replied.

"Look, all I want is to find my son, go home, and start over," Cain said, gesturing at DG with his hand. "I've done my job, I'm done here."

"When are you going to stop running?" DG demanded.

"Running?" Cain hissed, rounding on her. The queen bit her lip and averted her eyes.

"Yeah, you heard me. You're running. You should see your face when you're here with everyone—you just light up! You're running because you're afraid to admit that your heart wants you to be here," DG asserted. Cain took a deep breath as he looked down at the floor. Was she right? Was he running?

"What about Jeb? What's going to become of him while I'm here playing Captain of the Guard?" he asked, swinging his pack up over his shoulder.

"The Captain of the Guard is allotted a home here in the city. There would be more than enough room for Jeb and anyone else you should choose to move into the house with you," Ahamo said, finally able to add his own voice to the conversation. Cain looked at the people standing in his doorway and then looked at the floor again. Ahamo seemed to know that look.

"There is no shame in indulging your heart, Cain. Pride is the only thing standing between you and what you want," Ahamo said.

"With all due respect, you don't know what I want," Cain said softly, as if Ahamo's words finally hit home.

"I know you want to start over. I know you want a good, stable life for you and your boy. I know that family is important to you and that some of that family is here. You want to be here, Cain, I can see it in your eyes. Send for Jeb, or go and bring him back yourself. Your new home will be waiting when you return," Ahamo said. Lead-weighted seconds passed as Cain tossed this idea around in his head.

"All right. I'll do it," Cain finally resigned.

"About time," DG said with a grin as she crossed the room to hug him. He smiled softly as he briefly returned her hug and then explained that he would leave in the morning to get to where Jeb and his men would be waiting. Part of him was getting excited for the new opportunity to make good, but another was apprehensive. Would Jeb be receptive to this new living arrangement? They had never been 'city folks' so to speak, and they still owned the land on which stood the house that Jeb had been born in. If Jeb did not want to come to live in Central City, perhaps he would offer him the farm. Having this resolved in his head, a wider smile crossed his face.

"Please forgive my…attitude…your majesty," Cain said, inclining his head awkwardly. The queen smiled graciously and told him that without that 'attitude', he might not have gotten the job. As they left, he noticed that the lights in the room beside his were still burning. Cain made a face—as long as the royal family was being generous, he could have at least asked for a room that wasn't directly beside Glitch.

As if his name had been called, Glitch opened the door and poked his head out into the corridor.

"Did I hear correctly? Are you staying?" Glitch asked.

"Yeah, you did. I ride out tomorrow to find my son and ask him to join me here," Cain volunteered, immediately feeling like he'd said too much.

"Well, then I'll ask you to wish me luck now instead of tomorrow. You'll be miles from here when I'm under the knife in the morning," Glitch said, just a touch of nervousness in his long-lashed brown eyes.

"Under the knife?" Cain asked. Was that worry in his voice? He really *must* be tired! Glitch smiled and tapped a finger against the side of his head.

"To put my noggin back to rights," he reminded him.

"Yeah," Cain said, scratching the back of his head beneath the brim of his hat. "I almost forgot. Are they, uh, going to get rid of that zipper for you?"

"Yes. Won't be needing it again. You get it," Glitch said. Cain took a split second look at Glitch's head and tried to imagine it without the zipper. Glitch gave a small laugh.

"What's so funny?" Cain asked.

"You'll have to be more creative when you think up names to call me," he teased. Cain indulged a laugh this time.

"Yeah, I suppose 'head-case' is going to be out of the question now," Cain said. Glitch nodded. Both men took an awkward, silent step forward and Glitch offered his hand.

"Have a good ride in the morning," he said. "I probably won't see you until you come back." Cain slowly took his hand and then, as sharp blue eyes met wide brown ones, he pulled Glitch into a masculine hug, refusing to let go of his hand. Glitch smiled broadly and returned this most unexpected affection.

"Take care of yourself, scarecrow," Cain said, clutching the back of Glitch's coat for emphasis.

"Scarecrow?" Glitch asked, pulling only half an arm's length back.

"Yeah, you know: skinny, tattered clothes, no coordination, no brain—a scarecrow," Cain teased.

"I'll have you know, Tin Man, that I am—"

"Good night, zipper-head," Cain teased, a crooked grin lighting his face as he turned to go back into his room while Glitch struggled for a come-back.

"Milk this while you can!" Glitch called finally. "After tonight none of it applies!"

*************

DG was *not* used to dressing like a princess. She paced slowly outside the door to the infirmary in a long, light blue gown, her hair styled by her new lady's maid. The late morning sun was spilling warmly through the tall windows, forming a kind of track in which DG made her rounds. She looked up from this impatient motion to see Azkadellia approaching her dressed in a charming shade of green.

"What are you doing here?" DG asked gently. She did not yet know her sister well enough to understand whether her motives were her pure or were still the result of bitterness, but she didn't want to discourage Azkadellia if she was indeed trying to mend her bridges. Azkadellia quietly came to sit down on the bench that was built into the wall and DG sat down beside her.

"What happened to Ambrose was under my orders," Azkadellia began.

"Not yours, the witch's." DG interrupted, taking her sister's hand. She understood that it was going to take a very long time for poor Azkadellia to separate her own actions from that of the witch who possessed her. She gave DG a look that told her she wasn't finished yet, and the elder princess continued.

"I let the witch convince me that people who loved me really didn't, and yes, it was her orders to remove his brain, but it was my orders that the men heard," Azkadellia explained. "It's as much my responsibility as hers…I…think I owe it to him to be here." DG squeezed her sister's hand in both of hers and Azkadellia added her other hand to the embrace. A smile of understanding passed between them and DG finally spoke.

"There's been no word yet. Delicate procedure, they said. It could be hours," she muttered.

"I understand," Azkadellia replied in kind.

"Where are mom and dad this morning?" DG asked by way of conversation.

"Walking in the orchard," Azkadellia said, finally cracking a smile. "We're liable to see little of them for a few days."

"I can just about imagine," DG chuckled. "Has there been word from Cain?"

"He said he would send word as soon as he located the resistance fighters and his son," Azkadellia replied. "He said it might take time to convince them that there is no longer a need for a resistance."

"Promise me something," DG asked after a few moments of silence. Azkadellia met her sister's eyes and said, "What's that?"

"Promise me that if I try hard to stop blaming myself for everything that's happened that you'll do the same. I know it won't happen overnight, but I think we need to try," DG said. Azkadellia smiled again and nodded.

"Agreed."

************

"Dad!" Jeb called, striding out of the camp to meet him. Cain arrived at the edge of the clearing and slid from the saddle to land on his feet on the ground before throwing his arms around his son. "You're smiling—that must mean things worked out?"

"Better than expected," Cain replied, clapping Jeb on the back and walking with him into the camp. Over the noon meal, Cain regaled the resistance fighters with the tale of how the day had been won thanks to their help. He told them about the witch, the queen and king, and deprogramming the sunseeder. He told them about the grand meal they had all partaken of that evening, and then told them about the queen's offer.

"Captain of the Guard," Jeb said in wonder. "Wow…"

"That wasn't my initial reaction, but yeah, wow," Cain said, poking at the last of his lunch.

"What do you mean that wasn't your initial reaction?" Jeb asked as his men began to disperse back to their regular activities. "Isn't this some sort of honor? The queen trusts you to lead her army."

"It is an honor. It's just that some things are more important to me than honors from the queen," Cain said, chasing the last piece of potato around in the gravy before stuffing it in his mouth.

"You aren't turning this down on my account, are you?" Jeb said.

"I haven't turned it down, son, but I wasn't sure what your reaction would be. We've never been city people. I wasn't sure how you'd take to living in the city," Cain said, blue eyes meeting their match.

"Where else would I go but with you?" Jeb asked, poking at the fire with a long stick. Cain shrugged. Part of him was relieved that Jeb was willing to come to Central City with him but there was something of an undercurrent in Jeb's voice—as if the city was his only option. Cain decided then to make his offer.

"You know…we still have the farm land and the house. It needs a lot of work, but it's the house I brought your mother home to and the house you were born in. I thought if you didn't want to be a city boy with your old man, I'd give you the farm," Cain said. "It belongs to you by inheritance anyway and you're plenty old enough to tend it." Jeb stared at the smoldering fire and took a breath. A home of his own? Surely this would be ideal, but where could home be other than with his father?

"What are you thinking?" Cain asked gently.

"I'll take the farm," Jeb said. Cain breathed a little easier and nodded; this had been an answer he'd expected. "But…"

"But?"

"I'll get a wife of my own faster in Central City. I'll come home with you," Jeb said. He smiled at the pleased look on his father's face. "At least for a year or two."

"Done," Cain said, standing when Jeb stood and closing the deal with a firm handshake and then a hug.

"I'll need to talk to the men, assure them that they can go home safely and be with their families," Jeb said.

"It's going to take time for the suspicion and apprehension to wear off," Cain said.

"I know. But that's what we're here for, right?" Jeb said. Cain tilted his head.

"You planning on joining the guard?" he asked.

"I'll need work, right? Pay's good and living with you I'll be able to save up a decent amount. I'll need it for the farm…and weddings aren't cheap," Jeb said.

"Do you have one in mind?" Cain teased, following Jeb down to where the tents were pitched.

"No," Jeb answered quickly, and then stopped. "Well…not yet. We'll see what happens." Cain laughed and patted Jeb on the back.

"That's my boy," Cain said. "Say, do you remember Glitch?" Jeb furrowed his brow and thought for a moment.

"Yeah," he replied a moment later. "Wasn't he the one who couldn't shut up?" Cain couldn't resist a smile.

"Yeah, that's him. He's having surgery today to replace his missing marbles. Kinda keep him in your thoughts, okay?" Cain said. It was Jeb's turn to tilt his head in curiosity.

"You develop a soft-spot for the head-case?" Jeb chuckled. "You couldn't stand him last time I saw you in the same room."

"I don't know about soft-spot…but maybe *softer* spot," Cain replied, trying in vain to preserve his manly dignity.

"Sure. I'll keep him in mind," Jeb said. He and Cain finished the walk to the main part of the camp in silence.

*************

When the physician came out of the infirmary, Azkadellia and DG were immediately on their feet.

"What news?" Azkadellia asked softly.

"Is he going to be all right?" DG asked in kind.

"Yes. He's resting comfortably now and if you like, you can go in and see him," the physician replied, smiling softly and nodding respectfully before turning and going back into the infirmary. DG released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding spontaneously hugged Azkadellia. Azkadellia returned this embrace and then the sisters proceeded quietly into the starkly white infirmary. When they came upon Glitch's bed, he indeed was resting comfortably. His head was wrapped in bandages and the soft, button down shirt and pajama pants he was wearing looked light-years more comfortable than the rags of his uniform he'd been wearing for the past several years. Despite the fact that he'd just been through a risky surgery, Glitch smiled as he slept. DG sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and covered one of his hands with her own, having to shake her head and squeeze her eyes closed to dispel the fog of tears across her vision. Glitch blinked his eyes open and DG swallowed hard. Behind her, Azkadellia held onto the metal footboard for support.

"Angels…" Glitch muttered softly. Both sisters smirked, unaware that they shared this particular facial quirk.

"Yeah, you wish," DG teased gently, squeezing Glitch's hand. Glitch met Azkadellia's eyes and swallowed before greeting her.

"Princess," he murmured. He looked back at DG before teasing in return. "How do I rate a visit from both of you?" Azkadellia moved awkwardly to sit on the other side of the bed before she spoke.

"I…" she began but faltered. She just didn't know what to say first or how to say it. She had no idea what he assumed about her, what he knew of the witch that possessed her, nothing. Should she defend herself first or apologize first? As she thought about all of this, Glitch's hand slowly moved over to cover hers.

"Forgive me," Azkadellia blurted, looking down at the bed sheets. "I know it may be too much to ask after what I've done, but please…someday…forgive me." Glitch took a calm breath and swallowed again before he answered.

"Nothing…to forgive," he said. Tears rolled down Azkadellia's cheeks as she nodded. She gave his hand a tentative squeeze and then got up, excused herself quietly and left. DG watched her go, torn between staying to comfort her friend, and going to comfort her sister. Luckily for her, Glitch made that decision for her.

"Go," Glitch said, squeezing her hand. "I'll be all right." DG smiled, tears of her own glistening on her cheeks and nodded.

"All right…I'm going to hold you to it, you know," DG said. Glitch smiled again as DG stood and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. "I'll be back later to check on you." Glitch nodded and closed his eyes again as DG quickly left the infirmary. She wasn't sure where she would find Azkadellia, and it would take time to comfort her and assure her that she did something wonderful in asking Glitch's forgiveness, even though she really needn't have asked it at all.

************

The first sun had set and the second was just about to touch the horizon when the queen tiptoed into the infirmary. Gently, she sat down on the edge of Glitch's bed, precisely where DG had been that morning, and took hold of his hand. He woke easily, having recovered a little since the morning's procedure. He smiled in pleased surprise when he beheld the face of his queen.

"Another angel," he joked. The queen smiled brilliantly.

"I heard about what you did for Azkadellia today," she murmured, clutching his hand in both of hers.

"She didn't need to apologize," Glitch tried to explain. "We all know that it wasn't her."

"She still believes that it was," the queen replied, "and your forgiveness will go a long way in helping her to see that she is not to blame."

"Thank you," Glitch replied, his voice softened by her gratitude.

"No, my friend, thank you," the queen replied, closing her eyes and firmly holding his hand in both of hers. Glitch looked up at her and then closed his eyes as a warm, tingling, slowly spreading feeling started at his hand and moved along his body, making him feel as though he'd been wrapped in a blanket that had been hanging in the sun all day. He took a deep breath and moaned softly as the heat moved in smooth, even waves all the way to his toes. He was drifting off to a contented sleep when the queen released his hand and stood, turning quietly to go when she noticed DG at the door. She smiled and mother and daughter met half-way between the door and the bed.

"What did you do?" DG asked in a whisper.

"I haven't lost all of my powers," the queen said, smiling at the peacefully sleeping countenance of her advisor. "Some things I can still do."

"You healed him?" DG said, smiling brightly.

"As much as I could. He'll be on his feet tomorrow instead of a week from now," the queen replied. "Come, DG. Let him rest."

*************

When Wyatt Cain and his son arrived in Central City, the guards saluted him. Cain nodded to them and smiled shyly at Jeb as the rode along. Another guard met up with them not long after they entered the city and escorted them to the home set aside for the Captain of the Guard. The lights were on inside, smoke rolled from the chimney, and an appetizing smell was coming from somewhere inside.

"Looks like we're just in time for dinner," Jeb teased as they dismounted their horses. A stable groom arrived and took their horses for them, and at the door, pretty as a picture, was DG.

"Welcome home, Captain," she teased. "I hope you don't mind, but I got the home fires burning. Dinner's ready when you are."

"Well, well," Jeb said, "how do we rate that we get the princess of the realm to set up hearth for us?" The men entered the house behind DG, stopping just inside to look around. It was far from the extravagance of the palace, but it was nicely furnished and the decorations were simple—just the way Cain wanted to keep it. DG rang a small bell on a little end table and several people entered the room; three men, two women, and only one of them they had met before.

"This is your household staff," DG said. Cain looked at her with mild irritation. Being a commander was one thing, but he didn't like to tell people to pick up after him.

"Now don't go all Mr. Independent on us now. They're only here to help and you'll get used to having them around, just like I'm doing at the palace," DG said.

"Him, we've already met," Jeb said, nodding to the man who had taken care of their horses.

"That's Grant. He's your stable groom. Next to him is Mr. Price, your butler, and beside him is Carl, the groundskeeper," DG explained. "This is Georgianna, your maid, and Mrs. Havesham, your cook. Mrs. Havesham also functions as your housekeeper."

"Why do we—"

"Questions later, after dinner," DG insisted, leading them into the dining room.

"A formal dining room," Cain muttered as he entered, absentmindedly letting Price take his coat and hat. "Your mother would be turning green right now."

"Will the missus be joining us later, sir?" asked Mrs. Havesham. DG cursed softly. She'd forgotten to tell the staff that Cain's wife was dead.

"No," Cain said. He sat down at the end of the table and Mrs. Havesham silently vanished into the kitchen followed by Georgianna.

"I forgot to tell them, Cain. I'm sorry. I'll make sure that they know before I leave," DG said softly. She sat at Cain's right and Jeb at his left. "How was the ride out and back?"

"Uneventful, thank God," Cain said, taking a breath and settling in a little more comfortably in his new chair.

"Good. You'll be happy to know that Glitch made it through his surgery with flying colors," DG said as their meals were served. Cain looked up from his plate and relief slid across his expression.

"He's all in one piece again, then?" he said.

"Yeah, we got to talk to him not long after he got out of surgery," DG said.

"We?" Jeb asked between forkfuls of steamed vegetables.

"Yeah…my sister decided that she owed it to Glitch to be there. She's still blaming herself for everything that happened," DG said.

"But it isn't," Jeb said.

"Exactly," DG said, taking a ladylike sip of water. Cain couldn't help a smile. He seemed to have been slowly excluded from the conversation as the youngsters talked.

"How long is he going to be hospitalized?" asked Cain during a lull in the conversation.

"Thanks to my mother being amazing, he'll be up and around tomorrow, though I think it might take a little longer than that for him to be 100%," said DG.

"Good to hear it. Did you find out if Raw is staying around, too?" Cain asked.

"Actually, he's going to go back to be with his people for a while. He says he has some things he has to make peace with before he can come back to the palace," DG said. There was a note of sadness in her voice, like she knew that that was what was best for Raw, but that she would miss him terribly.

When their meal was done, DG led the way into the parlor, where Georgianna had already made sure that a crackling blaze was merrily licking the sides of the fireplace. Jeb smiled as he chose a chair and sat down with DG and his father.

"Wow…they're efficient," Jeb said. They chatted for a while until Price entered the room and came to stand before Cain.

"Pardon my interruption, sir. Would you or the young master like a bath this evening?" Price asked, glancing both at him and at Jeb. Cain looked at his son and smiled before nodding and saying, "Yeah…a bath would be great. Thank you."

"For me, too," Jeb added.

"Very good, sirs. Princess, I am told your carriage has arrived," Price said, nodding to DG.

"Thank you, Price," DG said, rising from her chair as Cain and Jeb scrambled to do so as well.

"Why don't we call him 'Mr. Price'," Jeb asked quietly of DG when Price had gone.

"According to my parents, it's because you and your dad are the only ones who are 'mister'. He's the servant, you're the master," DG said as if she'd read it in a book.

"I guess that works for me," Cain said, grinning as DG leaned over to give him a hug.

"Can I walk you to your carriage?" Jeb asked, offering DG his arm.

"My, aren't you the gallant one of the family," DG teased, slipping her hand into the crook of the proffered arm.

"I like to think I have a good teacher," Jeb said, smiling. Cain smiled proudly as he watched Jeb walk the princess to her carriage. He turned, chuckling, and then made his way upstairs to have his bath promptly after which he collapsed into the crisp, clean linens of his new bed.

*************

In the morning, an orderly took Glitch back to his room via wheelchair. He was feeling much better, but true to DG's prediction, he still was not 100% better, and would need to take things easy for a while longer. Once back in his room, Glitch found he was tired again, but very much wanted to look in a mirror. When he carefully removed the wrapped bandages from his head, he lightly fingered the area where his zipper had been. Thanks to the queen's healing touch, new hair was growing in where he thought for sure there would be too much scar tissue to allow it. He took in his countenance with a heavy heart—the five years he'd been on the run with half a brain paled in comparison to how long Cain had been locked in his iron prison. He wondered if Cain had returned from his trip to find his son, and if he liked his new home. A knock at the door startled him.

"Who is it?" he called.

"It's Cain," a voice replied.

"Come in!" Glitch cried. "I was just wondering if I'd see you today." When Cain walked in the door, Glitch crossed to him and stopped. In Cain's hand was a handful of wildflowers. Glitch smiled.

"Are those for me?" he asked. Cain visibly tried not to blush and failed.

"I tried to go and visit you in the infirmary and they told me you were up here," he said.

"Yes, the queen was very generous with her powers," Glitch said, setting the flowers in an empty crystal vase on the window sill.

"I hope you're not planning to go in to work today," Cain teased. "You look like you could use another good week in bed."

"I actually feel fine," Glitch said, turning back to the mirror. "As long as I don't do anything strenuous for a while, I think I can fulfill my duties."

"Life without that zipper's going to take some getting used to, huh?" Cain teased.

"You can say that twice and mean it," he said with a soft smile. "Did Jeb come home with you?"

"Yeah he did," Cain said proudly. "We're not used to being waited on, but we're getting there."

"I think you'll like it once they get to know you and learn what you like and need," Glitch said, trying in vain to adjust his haphazard hair. Cain squinted a little and tilted his head.

"Your part wasn't always down the center, was it?" he asked, coming to stand behind Glitch.

"No…I don't think so anyway," Glitch said. "Not many mirrors in the places I've been for the past few years…not that I'd remember."

"You've got five years of growth there that you could probably live without," Cain said, "and is this a shadow?" he brushed Glitch's cheek with the back of his fingers and Glitch flinched with a grin that said he knew Cain was teasing him.

"What you need is a nice hot bath, a haircut and a shave," Cain said. "I'll go see if I can get someone to arrange that for you."

"I can take care of it myself, Cain," Glitch said, taking two steps forward. On the second one, a wave of dizziness sent Glitch tumbling to the floor and brought Cain running to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Glitch snorted in wounded masculine pride.

"I'm on the floor! Do I look all right to you?" Glitch snapped. Cain was kneeling behind him, his hands on Glitch's shoulders. Glitch shrugged free of him and tried to stand, only to get dizzy and tip back the rest of the way to the floor.

"I'm going to call down for someone to bring that bath for you and I'm going to help you myself," Cain said softly.

"You have someplace to be," Glitch grumbled.

"It'll wait," Cain replied.

"You have to meet your men today and be instated as their Captain," Glitch said.

"I said it will wait," Cain insisted.

"You don't even want to help me," Glitch insisted. "You…you've never been so nice to me. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I can't be nice to you?" Cain replied, finally getting a little frustrated. "I spent the first few days that I knew you kicking your ass and calling you names and now that I'm trying to be nice to you, you slap my hand away?" Glitch suddenly realized that Cain was only inches from him…why did that suddenly make him nervous?

"Come on, I think it's just the anesthesia that's making you cranky," Cain teased more gently, letting Glitch lean on him to get up off the floor. "Lie down and rest for a little while. I'll go see about that bath."

Glitch thought he was too wound up to sleep, but discovered with some surprise that he had indeed nodded off by the time Cain returned. Several palace servants carried a large wash tub, deep pails of hot water, and other supplies that they would need.

"Last chance, Cain. You don't have to do this," Glitch said, rubbing his eyes. Cain gave his friend a look that silenced all opposition and Glitch finally relented. While Glitch let his sore muscles unwind in the tub, Cain went to the wardrobe.

"Are you my mother now, too?" Glitch teased. Cain ignored his comment and asked, "Were you really wearing all of those layers together? All part of the same uniform?"

"Being summer, I probably won't need the striped shirt, but yes, the rest of it was part of the garb," he replied, his arms wrapped around his knees as he hugged them to his chest.

"My new butler did all this stuff for me last night—helped with my bath, set my clothes out, offered me a massage and then offered to cut my hair and give me a shave…I've never been so spoiled, not even by my wife," Cain babbled. "And she spoiled me rotten sometimes." He laid out the warm gold frock coat and crimson vest with its gold embroidery, along with a clean off-white shirt, and pants and shoes that matched the coat. Glitch rested his head on his knees, gazing at nothing in particular as he sighed.

"Everything okay?" Cain asked, coming back to the other side of the room.

"Must have been nice to have a partner…someone who really understood you," Glitch said, his eyes meeting Cain's again for another beat of time before Cain picked up a soft sponge and washed his friend's back and then his hair. By the time Cain was finished, five years of unkempt appearance had melted away, and the man that looked in the mirror now looked far more like his portrait in the palace on the Northern Island. His clothes were neat and pressed, his face was carefully clean shaven, and his freshly washed and trimmed dark brown curls were parted where they should have been, along the left side instead of the middle. Glitch finished buttoning the frock coat up to his throat and then turned, smiling gratefully at Cain.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"Like you feel much better, that's for sure," Cain said. "Shall we go and report to her majesty?"

"It's nearly noon," Glitch said, glancing at the pocket watch that he'd found in his bureau drawer.

"Great, we'll be just in time for lunch," Cain said, starting to shepherd him toward the door.

"Cain?"

"Yeah, Glitch?"

"Thank you," Glitch said sincerely. "I've been a really big pain in the ass this morning."

"Yeah, well, that's what friends do—they help you out even when you're being a really big pain in the ass," Cain replied.

"And Cain?"

Cain stopped and took a 'trying to be patient' breath.

"Call me Ambrose."

This drew a grin from the former Tin Man.

"Only…" Cain thought about this for a moment before he said it, and said it anyway. "Only if you call me Wyatt."

"Done." Glitch replied with a broad smile.

*************

When Wyatt and Ambrose arrived at the door to the throne room, they were both smiling. Neither had said much on the way down, but the unspoken gratitude in Ambrose's smile was worth every second of Wyatt's silence. When they were allowed in, both Princesses rose from their seats in surprise.

"I didn't expect to see you up so soon!" DG said, coming down the three steps from the dais to give him a hug. He held her in this hug and grinned, holding onto her hands as she stood back a step and looked him up and down.

"Wow…nice outfit!" DG teased.

"You've done something with your hair," Azkadellia added with a smile. This drew laughter from the others in the room.

"Very impressive, Ambrose," the queen said, her own smile so very like her daughters'. Ambrose knelt before the thrones and motioned for Wyatt to do the same as DG moved back to her seat.

"I humbly request of your majesty to return to my duties," Ambrose said. "As you can see, your beneficence has rendered my health much improved."

"Granted!" the queen said happily. "But only half time for the next week. I do not wish to rush your recovery and risk a relapse." Ambrose nodded respectfully at this and then the two stood.

"I see you've brought our new Captain of the Guard with you!" Ahamo said. "Maybe you could take him to the training yard so that he can meet his men."

"I assure you it was quite the opposite," Ambrose teased. "It would be my pleasure, Sir," Ambrose nodded again, acknowledging the ladies, and gesturing for Wyatt to follow him. DG looked harder at them as they went, she seemed to notice something.

"DG, is something wrong?" the queen asked.

"They're getting along…" DG said, turning back to her mother. "They've never gotten along so well."

"People change for the better when people who love them are nearby," the queen said, reaching back to touch Azkadellia's hand. She smiled at this and the next visitor was shown in.

*************

"How was your first day?" Ahamo asked his new Captain of the Guard at dinner.

"The men are understandably jumpy, but I'm hopeful that with training and steady leadership they'll be a well oiled machine again in no time," Wyatt replied.

"I'm so pleased," the queen added, making Wyatt smile further. "I was told that your son has joined your ranks. Is this true?"

"Yes," Wyatt said, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "I'll be making good use of him, too. His experience in the field speaks volumes for his leadership potential."

"Sounds like he'll make an excellent lieutenant for you," Ahamo subtly suggested.

"An officer? Already?" Wyatt said.

"Why not? His role in the defeat of the witch was instrumental in our success," the queen said.

"My fear is that the men would resent it if my son became an officer so quickly," Wyatt said.

"I think it's a great idea to reward Jeb's experience, but you do have a point," Ambrose added.

"I'll leave it up to you. The guard is yours to command and the promotion of officers is among your duties. When you feel that Jeb has sufficiently proved his mettle to the others, promote him with my blessing," the queen said.

"Thank you, your majesty," Wyatt said. "He'll be pleased to know you have such faith in him."

After dinner, the whole group: royalty, royal advisor, Captain and all, retired to the gardens to enjoy the late summer evening sunshine. Jeb joined them after a few minutes, and the group slowly divided as they pursued conversations or other diversions. The king and queen took to dancing on a small pavilion surrounded by rose bushes, and Jeb joined the princesses as they challenged one another to get to the center of the garden maze first. This development left Wyatt and Ambrose to wander the orchard by themselves.

When DG dashed into the center of the maze with its enormous oak tree, skirts swishing and panting for breath, she looked around to find that she was the first to arrive. She turned this way and that as she neared the tree, admiring its dark, glossy green leaves and was fully unaware when hands reached out from behind the tree and grabbed her around the waist. She screeched as the hands turned her and she came face to face with Jeb.

"Shame on you!" she shouted in mock protest, slapping his shoulder as he laughed. "You gave me a heart attack!"

"Come on, Princess," Jeb said, grinning much like his father, his wide blue eyes sparkling. "You can't tell me you didn't like it just a little." DG narrowed her eyes a little and her mouth twisted into an amused smirk.

"Whether I did or not, Mr. Cain, a man can't just go around grabbing and frightening a princess," DG replied.

"Hey, hey, hey, Mr. Cain is my father," Jeb teased. "You get to call me Jeb." He was still clutching her hand as she pulled away from him.

"Was Az that far behind us or did she actually take a wrong turn?" DG said, changing the subject.

"If we move fast, we can hide in the tree and scare her, too," Jeb suggested. A moment of thought process passed before DG nodded and he scrambled up the tree, reaching back down to help her up. They were far farther up the tree than they needed to be, but the view from the tree was worth the climb. They could see the rest of the maze, the pavilion, and some of the orchard.

"Look," said Jeb, gesturing toward the orchard. They could see Wyatt and Ambrose walking leisurely along the path.

"I'm so glad they're getting along better. They're going to have to work together sometimes," DG said. Jeb squinted a little and carefully moved a branch so that he could see better.

"What is it?" DG asked, looking where he was looking. Wyatt and Ambrose continued to walk as they talked and Ambrose's hand rested on Wyatt's shoulder as they went along. While the two youngsters watched, Ambrose's hand slipped from his companion's shoulder, down his arm, and joined hands with him. Wyatt looked at Ambrose in surprise and without a word, gently took his hand back. There was a beat of time when both men looked at the ground or at the trees and then they continued on.

"Okay," DG said as they stared.

"Didn't see that one coming," Jeb said.

"Ambrose I could have seen coming, but not Cain," DG said.

"What do you mean by that?" Jeb said, not sure whether he should be offended.

"Where I come from, guys who like other guys tend to behave a certain way, so if you look carefully you can tell. I wouldn't have guessed that Cain liked other guys," DG tried to explain.

"He was married to my mother—he loved her like the world revolved around her—when did all of this come up? Besides, he took his hand back, remember?" Jeb replied.

"Yeah, but did you see his eyes?" DG asked. "Like he was actually thinking about it before he pulled away."

"Aw, that's just…I don't know," Jeb said.

"What are you two doing up there?" called Azkadellia, arriving in the center of the maze.

"Come on," DG said, starting to descend. "We've missed our opportunity to scare Az."

"Would you ever hold my hand, princess?" Jeb asked softly. DG stopped and looked up at him, smiled and nodded.

"Yeah," she replied with a grin. "I think I would."

*************

For the next month, Jeb and DG watched as Wyatt and Ambrose's relationship moved like the tides rather than a flower growing. One day they were inseparable and the next avoiding one another, bickering another day, and joking and laughing the next.

"Seriously, why doesn't he just tell him?" DG said as she and Jeb walked along the rose covered path in the garden.

"Tell him what?" Jeb asked, running his hand through his thick blonde hair. "and who?"

"Ambrose and your dad," DG said, picking at a thorn-less rose in her hand. "Ambrose is clearly smitten and I think your dad's just afraid to admit it."

"I can't say I blame him," Jeb said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" DG said, stopping on the path.

"All I'm saying is that he's been muttering when I'm not in the room. He thinks I can't hear him," Jeb said. "He keeps saying stuff like, 'this is crazy', or 'it's impossible…this isn't right…"

"So he really does have feelings for Ambrose?" DG said, taking a couple of steps to catch up to Jeb.

"It would appear that way," Jeb said. "Come on; let's practice for that ball of yours."

"I've been practicing forever," DG said. "The ball's in a week. I don't think I'm going to get a whole lot better than I am now."

"Maybe you won't, princess, but I might," Jeb said, offering his hand. DG laughed and took it.

High up in the tower, in a sunny parlor, Wyatt and Ambrose were not having as much fun as the youngsters in the garden. An argument about how thinly spread the armies were and the missing battalion that had sided with Zero had degenerated into a knock-down, drag-out, explosion of repressed emotion.

"Couldn't we just table this and talk about it tomorrow?" Ambrose cried.

"No! I want it settled now!" Wyatt shouted. "What's gotten into you lately? You've been moodier than hell!"

"You want to talk about moody? I've walked on broken glass ever since that day in the orchard!"

"Oh, here we go again!" Wyatt cried, gesturing and turning away from him.

"Yes! Here we go again!" Ambrose cried back. "Would it be so tough for you to admit that you have feelings? Feelings for me?"

"I was a married man, Ambrose!" Wyatt yelled, turning to face him. "You can see where that might complicate things, don't you think? Hell, my own son doesn't even know what to do with this!"

"Yes! You were a married man and you're not anymore! And your son understands a lot more than you give him credit for!"

"What do you know, genius?" Wyatt replied, using 'genius' as if it was an insult. "When your entire life is one way and suddenly you start to think it might be another, things don't just change overnight. You don't just abandon an entire life of thinking of yourself one way when something else comes along! What do you know?"

"I know that I have feelings for you that you're rejecting," Ambrose said, his voice thickening with what he was finally saying out loud. "I know that there are things I want so badly to tell you and I can't for fear that you'll withdraw even further and I know—"

"Oh, spare me the dramatic monologue, please!" sneered Wyatt. "This isn't a fairytale! This isn't some story with a miraculous happy ending!" Ambrose turned away from him and planted his hands on the windowsill on the opposite wall. He was barely breathing with the effort it took to keep from breaking down. Wyatt watched this for a moment and then made a face.

"Now who's withdrawing?" Wyatt said coldly. When Ambrose didn't answer him, Wyatt picked up his coat and stormed out of the room. When the door slammed shut, Ambrose collapsed into the chair beside him and wilted into miserable tears. His hands were shaking, his heart was pounding, and he could barely feel the floor beneath his feet. After a few minutes, he forced himself to stand and glanced out the window to the slowly descending sun. He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and finally made his way back to his room.

When Wyatt returned home, Jeb was in the parlor reading a book; a book he promptly dropped when he heard the front door slam shut behind his father. Wyatt didn't stop at the parlor, he hurried up the stairs and Jeb left his book on the floor to follow him.

"What's wrong?" he called after his father.

"Nothing that concerns you," Wyatt said without turning to look at him first.

"If I have to live with you and work with you, yeah, it does concern me," Jeb retorted. Wyatt finally turned and did it with such an energy that Jeb actually stumbled back a step.

"You don't want a piece of this right now," Wyatt growled, his blue eyes boring into his son. Jeb thought for a moment his father might blow up at him but he didn't. Instead he turned again and started down the hall toward his room.

"This is about Ambrose, isn't it?" Jeb said. Wyatt stopped, a tension in his tightly muscled form. He slowly turned to Jeb again.

"What did you say?"

"You know, it's not a crime to let yourself feel things," Jeb said.

"Stop. Stop right now," Wyatt said, pointing in Jeb's face.

"Threaten me all you want. You know I'm right. I've seen the way he looks at you and whether you want to admit it or not, I've seen the way you look at him," Jeb asserted.

"It doesn't sicken you to think that your old man's a pervert!?" Wyatt hissed, taking a step closer to Jeb. "A man-lover?…a faggot?"

"Stop it!" Jeb shouted. "Stop talking about yourself like that!"

"It's true!" Wyatt retorted. Tears were just on the edges of Jeb's eyes. How could he convince his father that he was so wrong?

"You once told me that if you don't have heart, you have nothing. Whether you like it or not, your heart is up in that tower and it's breaking!" Jeb cried.

"You're both a couple of fools!" Wyatt replied, exasperated.

"Who's more fool? The one trying to embrace his heart, or the one throwing it away?" Jeb said. Wyatt bit his tongue as Jeb closed the distance between himself and his father.

"I know you're scared, dad," Jeb said more gently. "But love is supposed to scare the shit out of you. It's supposed to test you and what you're willing to do for the other person, whether it's who you expect to fall for or not."

"What do you know of love?" Wyatt mumbled. Jeb steadied himself for a moment and then answered.

"I had mom's…before I had to bury her with my own hands. By the grace of God I have yours again after years without a father in my life…and I have someone in that tower, too, dad. Did you know that? I'm so in love with her that I'm dreaming of what our life together is going to be like. I'm dreaming of our children and I've never wanted to be close to someone so much in my life," Jeb confessed, gushing all of his feelings at once.

"Her," Wyatt said. He looked up at his son finally. "Her. Not him. Her."

"You haven't heard a word I've said," Jeb said, shaking his head. "I'll bet he tried to tell you, didn't he? That's what set you off—he tried to pour his heart out and you didn't want to hear it."

"It wouldn't work," Wyatt muttered weakly.

"Get over yourself," Jeb growled. He stalked off to his own bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

Back at the tower, the lights were dark inside Ambrose's bedroom and his bed was untouched. A sealed letter addressed to the queen was tacked to the door, and Ambrose himself was gone.

*************

The next morning came too quickly for Wyatt. He was achy, overtired, and grumpy. He spoke very little at breakfast and Jeb's answers were reduced to nods and shakes of his head. Jeb left for the tower palace before he did, and other than the necessary 'yes sir' or 'no sir', refused to speak to him. Not long into the training exercises that morning, a page scurried into the yard, notifying him that the queen wished to see him immediately. When he arrived at the throne room, the tone was very somber, and Wyatt was beginning to wonder where Ambrose was. His place beside the dais was vacant, and Wyatt swallowed hard as he bowed respectfully. The queen had an opened letter in her hand and all three women in the room had been crying.

"Mr. Cain, I'm glad you could join us," the queen said with forced politeness.

"Is something wrong?" Wyatt asked, looking up from his bow.

"Perhaps you would care to explain this letter, Mr. Cain. It was discovered just a few moments ago when I sent a security detail to check on Ambrose. He did not arrive at his post today and I began to fear something had happened to him," the queen explained. The page took the letter at the queen's prompting and handed it to Wyatt.

Wyatt nearly had to sit down. What he held was a tenderly written letter from Ambrose addressed to her majesty the queen, apologizing for the abrupt nature of the letter, and announcing his resignation—effective immediately. Due to personal issues that remained unresolved, he felt unable to perform his duties and didn't want to place the kingdom in danger from any unintentional negligence on his part. The rest of the letter addressed goodbyes to her majesty and to DG and Azkadellia, but it was the end of his letter that had Wyatt's head reeling in guilty shock:

"_To Wyatt…I will spare you the dramatic monologue that I know you dislike and leave you with only this: I love you." _

"Have you anything to say, having read this?" Azkadellia asked from her place at her mother's side. When Wyatt couldn't find the words, the queen lowered her head and wept into a handkerchief in her hand as Azkadellia stooped to comfort her and DG rose from her seat, descending the stairs and coming to stand before the man she cared for as she would a father.

"Find him," DG growled softly.

"DG…" Wyatt muttered, unsure what to say in light of this new information. Before he could say anything more, DG slapped him, a sharp, loud, lightning-quick sound that left Wyatt speechless.

"You drove him to this…find him," DG growled a little louder. "So help me God, if he's hurt…" Ahamo quietly folded his hands over DG's shoulders as she started to cry again and she let him lead her back to the dais to sit down. Without a word, Wyatt dropped the letter, tipped his hat and then left the room on legs that threatened not to hold him up. Where had his scarecrow gotten off to? A better question was: where in the O.Z. was he ever to start looking?

*************

Ambrose drove his old but meticulously well taken care of car as far as it would take him, not really paying attention to where he was going. When the gas gauge on both the main and auxiliary tanks read empty, he pushed the car to the side of the old road, covered it with branches to hide it, and left it, taking his pack and continuing to walk. It was afternoon now and he was so far from Central City that he could no longer see even the tops of the tallest towers. He knew that he would need to find shelter soon, but part of him didn't care. He'd lived the last few years on the run by himself with only half of his brain—how hard could it be to get along if he had the whole thing? He continued to walk along the road, heartbreak still making him fearless of what might lay ahead.

Wyatt charged back toward the stables to retrieve his horse and crossed paths with his son.

"Where are you going?" Jeb asked, suddenly concerned.

"To find a scarecrow," Wyatt muttered, saddling the horse.

"Scarecrow?" Jeb repeated. He didn't know his father's special nickname for Ambrose. No one did except Ambrose himself. "What happened?"

"He's gone," Wyatt said, stopping as he tossed the reigns over the horse's head. He ducked his head and bit back tears. "You're the man of the house while I'm gone," Wyatt instructed his son. "No parties, no booze, and no girls."

"I don't know enough people here to throw a party, I've been drinking for years, and I can't stop DG from coming over—they have laws against that here," Jeb retorted. "I'm coming with you."

"DG?" Wyatt repeated, realizing for the first time what Jeb had said to him the night before.

"Yeah—you didn't believe me, did you?" Jeb replied with a mischievous glint in his Cain blue eyes.

"I love that girl like I love you and she's never going to forgive me if I don't bring him home, Jeb," Wyatt said as he settled himself in the saddle.

"Who?" Jeb asked again.

"Stay here!" Wyatt ordered again before riding off, leaving his son standing in the stables. "DG needs you here!"

Jeb was still standing in the stable trying to figure out what had gotten into his father when a page arrived and told him that the princess needed to see him.

"Absolutely," Jeb replied, going to put his things away before following the page to a parlor on the other side of the tower. Inside, Azkadellia rose from a soft couch where she was comforting DG and came to him.

"I called for you. She insisted that you were busy with the guard but she is your princess and she comes first. She didn't think you'd see it that way," Azkadellia told him.

"I'll see to it that that changes, your highness," Jeb replied softly, bowing from the neck. Azkadellia acknowledged him and then left the room. Jeb and DG's eyes met and he immediately crossed the room to kneel in front of the couch, letting DG flop forward into his arms.

"What's going on?" Jeb asked, stroking DG's soft brown curls.

"I told Az that you'd be busy…told her not to interrupt you," DG sobbed.

"DG, I love you," Jeb said firmly, holding her face in his hands. "You are my princess and you come before all else." DG eased herself off the couch and into Jeb's lap, letting him hold her and rock her a little before he lifted her in his arms and sat down on the couch to hold her more comfortably. She leaned against his shoulder and he quietly held her for a few more moments before he dried her tears with his fingers and kissed the top of her head.

"Now," he said. "Would you please tell me what's going on?"

*************

As the second sun was setting, Ambrose decided his destination. Where else would a man in his state go? He made his way through a field of waist high grass and located a large, wooden trap door. When the one you love doesn't love you in return, the Realm of the Unwanted was just about the most logical place to be.

Upon descending into the city, its night life already in full swing, Ambrose immediately blended into the patchwork of people crowding the streets. Weary from his journey, Ambrose sat down in a dim café and ordered a drink. A drink first—maybe two—then he would decide where he would sleep tonight. Not having a plan was a bit frightening, but he simply couldn't see himself going back the way he came.

In the opposite corner of the room, crowded into a dark booth was Zero, Azkadellia's fearsome former captain. He and a handful of his men observed this newcomer with some interest.

"What's he doing here?" Zero asked the man at his right.

"Good question," the man replied. "He could be a spy."

"She would never have sent him alone. Do you have any idea how much the queen would give to get him back in one piece?" Zero mused.

"What's your plan, Captain?" the man on his left asked. Zero narrowed his eyes as he watched Ambrose order his third drink.

"Go over there and find out what he's doing here. As a matter of fact, bring him back to base with you," Zero instructed them. "The way he's drinking, it won't be safe out there for him, and we'll need him unhurt if we're going to squeeze anything out of the queen."

*************

Wyatt was beginning to wish that he'd taken Jeb up on his offer of company. Being alone on the road did nothing to keep his mind off Ambrose. The way he'd ended his letter still rocked him to the core. _"To Wyatt…I will spare you the dramatic monologue that I know you dislike and leave you with only this: I love you." _

He found himself wishing that he had not taken back his hand in the orchard. He wished that he hadn't ignored Ambrose's advances, hadn't yelled at him when he tried to tell him the words that he had had to leave in his letter instead.

"_I love you._"

He tried to hear Ambrose's voice in his head saying those words out loud. It came rather easily, as easily as hearing his laughter, or watching the sun glimmer off the gold braiding on his coat. An object along the side of the road seemed to catch the sun and send it winking back at passersby and it distracted Wyatt from his daydream. When he dismounted the horse and walked to the object, he discovered a mirror, and upon closer inspection, he pulled the branches and leaves away, revealing the car that Ambrose had told him about but had never showed him. Ambrose had built his touring car himself and was exceedingly proud of it. Why was it on the side of the road abandoned? Wyatt slid into the comfortable driver's seat and turned the key that was still in the ignition. The gauges blinked to life and showed that the gas tanks were empty and Wyatt pushed his hat back to scratch his head. He'd figured that Ambrose had about a half-day lead on him following the old road, and now on foot, he could be anywhere.

"Come on, Cain, think!" Wyatt chided himself out loud. "If you were Ambrose, where would you go?" As he thought, Wyatt climbed out of the car, put the top up, removed the rest of the leaves and sticks, and then settled back inside. Night had fallen and the car was as good a shelter as any. Wyatt took a few moments to figure out how to make the seat recline and then tipped his hat forward onto his face before falling asleep.

In his dreams, it was him reclining in his bathtub at home, the sliding of the water like a hand on his skin. No more did he think this, but real hands came to rest on his shoulders and warm breath came from the face that nudged his head to one side and kissed his neck. Wyatt smiled as loving hands washed his hair and his back, speaking in soothing tones as Wyatt closed his eyes.

"_I love you, Wyatt." _

When Wyatt startled himself awake, it was morning, and he quickly rose, left the car as presentable as he could, and was back on his horse, munching on some dried food he'd brought with him as he rode along. The dream haunted him as he traveled. The voice in his dream had been no more than a whisper. Had it been Adora or Ambrose? He noted in his heart that when he pondered this question, neither option bothered him.

*************

"Has he shut up yet?" Zero grumbled to his second in command. He'd been up all night trying to interrogate Ambrose, but the heartbroken genius had merely continued to babble and tell stories to the men. All night. Now that morning had broken, Ambrose had finally passed out, and two weary men emerged from the cell that Ambrose was being kept in.

"We've got nothing, Captain," said one.

"He talked in circles all night. Sometimes about his stupid inventions, sometimes some joke about a scarecrow in love with a tin man…I don't know where he gets this stuff, sir. I'm exhausted. Permission to be dismissed, sir?" the second one said.

"Granted. Let me deal with our friend the Royal Advisor. If we're not going to be able to get anything out of him that we can use to blackmail the queen, then he's not of any use to us, is he?" Zero recruited a handful of men and then the group went to retrieve Ambrose, who snored softly on the hard wooden bench inside his cell. They dragged him by his arms along with them and vanished into the early morning traffic of the city.

Not far from the edge of the city laid a number of caves, some of which received surface light. Upon reaching one of these caves, the men took their time beating Ambrose into a wakeful state, and then lashed his hands and arms to a wooden beam before hoisting it and their captive up to hang on an already standing taller beam, forming a cross and making Ambrose look very much like the unfortunate protagonist of his joke—a scarecrow. The direct overhead sunlight illuminated his body and the heat from the life-giving rays was almost immediately excruciating. As Zero and his men turned to leave, they heard a sound that would haunt them all as long as they lived. Ambrose was chuckling.

"Kill me, Zero…come back here, you coward, and kill me," Ambrose laughed.

"You really are crazy," Zero mused.

"No…not crazy," Ambrose said, hanging his head. "Brilliant, desperate, heartbroken, nothing to lose…but not crazy."

"I already have. All day exposed to the sun without water and you'll be dead by sundown," Zero told him. Ambrose laughed again and looked up at him, his brown eyes meeting Zero's ice cold blues.

"Thank you."

Zero urged his men out ahead of him, taking the time to look back one more time before they left Ambrose to his fate, still hanging his head and chuckling.

*************

Wyatt rode along, blinking in the bright sunlight as he came to the clearing where the old road turned and a wide field of waist-high grass loomed outward from his right. Wyatt stopped and glanced out at this field in recognition. He remembered that this is where they had found the Realm of the Unwanted.

"You wouldn't…" Wyatt said into the air. It was nearly noon. "You stupid, romantic, love-struck son of a bitch…you *did*, didn't you?" A chill ran down Wyatt's spine as he urged the horse into the field, hurrying along and taking longer than he would have liked to find the heavy wooden door in the ground.

When he arrived in the dim, dingy city, he began asking around to see if anyone had seen Ambrose. Most shook their heads. Wyatt sat down in a café that was strangely dimmer than the rest of the city and ordered a drink. Glancing around the place idly, he noticed a curvy waitress picking up a backpack from a table near the back. There was an emblem on the front he recognized and he nearly choked on the last of his drink before asking the waitress who it belonged to.

"Some guy in here last night," the waitress replied.

"Can you describe him?" Wyatt asked. She described Ambrose almost to the letter, pretty good, the former tin man thought, for such a dark place.

"Where did he go after this? Do you know?" Wyatt asked.

"I don't know. He left here with a bunch of guys in black uniforms," she replied. Wyatt's heart leapt into his throat. Zero? Zero had Ambrose? He thanked the waitress, paid for his drink, and then stuffed Ambrose's smaller pack into the empty pocket of his saddlebag that he was carrying over his shoulder. He left the café and stepped out into the busier after-lunch foot traffic of the marketplace.

He considered asking around for Zero, but thought better of it, knowing what had happened the last time he went looking for trouble in the Realm of the Unwanted. Instead, he continued to ask around. Several people saw Zero and his men dragging an unconscious captive through town, but could only give him a direction to go, not a destination. Wyatt prayed as he went along that he was not too late. If Zero had done something to harm Ambrose, he and anyone else that touched Ambrose was going to die. There was nothing left of that mercy that he had tried to teach his son. He stopped an hour later and sat down on a dingy bench to rest his feet. The thought of killing Zero made him feel cold—how could he stoop to Zero's level? He owed it to Jeb and to Ambrose to restrain himself and leave revenge to whom it belonged.

A heavily draped old woman with frizzy, dirty white hair wheeled a cart up to him and sat down beside him. Wyatt ignored her until she tapped his shoulder with a thick-fingered hand.

"You look like a tin man," she said in a surprisingly sweet sounding voice.

"Maybe I was in another life," Wyatt muttered.

"I heard someone telling a story about a tin man today," she said carefully enunciating each word as if she was trying to make sure that Wyatt heard her. "Something about a tin man and a scarecrow." Wyatt's attention snapped to the old woman's face.

"Did you say scarecrow?" Wyatt said.

"Why yes, I did," the woman said. "I saw men in long black coats taking that nice young man who told the story off toward those caves…strange…he wasn't with them when they came back. Do you suppose he lives there?" Wyatt stood abruptly, excused himself, and took off toward the caves the woman spoke of.

"Tell me I'm not too late…please, God, tell me I'm not too late," Wyatt mumbled.

The cave system had several dozen openings into the deep, dank ground and most were completely dark. How was he to know where Zero's men had taken Ambrose? After the first six or seven deep, dark caves, Wyatt blinked in the brightness of one that had holes in the ceiling that let in light from the surface. The first two were empty save for a few bats and then the third stopped Wyatt in his tracks. He tripped over the saddle bag as he dropped it and collapsed to his knees.

"No…" he gasped. He couldn't breathe…his heart was beating too hard and too close to his throat. "No! Ambrose!" Too late. Too late. He'd ridden all this way, searched day and night. Too late. His heart beat furiously along with those words screaming through his head. Too late. Too late. Wyatt crept along the floor on his hands and knees, forcing himself to stand when he arrived at the foot of the cross and pull a small dagger from his boot. He used this to cut the leather bands that held Ambrose to the cross beam and then collapsed under his weight as his body fell into his arms. Wyatt dropped the dagger and cradled the beaten body of the man he loved as he rocked back and forth and cried.

"No…" Wyatt wept. "No…wake up! Wake up!" Wyatt's eyes opened wide when he saw Ambrose move his head and swallow slowly.

"That it! That's it! Wake up!" Wyatt cried. When Ambrose spoke it was softest of whispers, the whisper from his dream.

"You…came for me…" Ambrose whispered as he opened his eyes. Wyatt thought his heart would break the bounds of his ribcage if it beat any harder.

"Of course I did! Of course I came for you, you clumsy, ragged, fool! Didn't you know? That's how the story ends. The tin man always comes for his scarecrow," Wyatt said, prying the cap off of his canteen and carefully letting Ambrose drink what was left.

"I thought you didn't like dramatic monologues," Ambrose said raggedly. Wyatt stroked his face with his right hand and smiled.

"I lied."

With this, Wyatt bent down and sealed his mouth over Ambrose's, administering their first kiss as they sat in the bright circle of sunlight that punctured the darkness of the cave. His lips were still less than an inch from Ambrose's and tears rolled from his eyes down his cheeks as he whispered, "I love you, too!"

*************

Wyatt and Ambrose were back on the road an hour later, Wyatt sitting up tall in his saddle as he held Ambrose sitting crossways in his lap so that he could sleep against Wyatt's shoulder as they rode along. The mild weather of the day burned off to a chilly evening, and Wyatt wrapped a blanket around Ambrose's shoulders and continued to hold him close. Ambrose stirred at sundown and looked up at Wyatt in confusion.

"We're not stopping?" Ambrose asked.

"No. We're riding through," Wyatt said softly.

"Why?" Ambrose said. In his mind, it made much more sense to stop and rest for the night and then continue refreshed in the morning.

"Did I tell you yet what happened when the queen found your letter?" Wyatt asked. Ambrose shook his head and Wyatt smiled wistfully.

"She sent for me and when I got there she and Az and DG had all been crying. Believe me, in all the years I've been married if I've learned anything, it 's that the last thing a man wants is to face a room full of crying women," Wyatt said. Ambrose chuckled and then coughed. Wyatt handed him the canteen and then continued.

"She demanded that I explain the letter and I had no idea what to tell her. She started crying again and then DG got out of her chair and came all the way to me before growling at me to find you," Wyatt said.

"Aw, DG…" Ambrose said.

"She said I'd driven you to run away…She slapped me, Ambrose," Wyatt said, still surprised that she'd done so.

"She didn't!" gasped Ambrose, looking up at Wyatt in shock.

"She did," Wyatt replied. "I was out the door so fast I hardly said goodbye to Jeb before I left. Told him to stay there and comfort DG." Ambrose smiled softly.

"I knew it," he said.

"I didn't, believe it or not," Wyatt said, his heart warmed by the simple conversation. "My wild hayseed of a son and the princess."

"That princess was raised a wild hayseed in case you forgot," Ambrose bantered.

"That's true," Wyatt said. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"That's why you have me," Ambrose teased. Wyatt smiled and lifted his right hand to gently stroke Ambrose's face, some of which was sunburned from his ordeal. Their eyes met, and a second later, their lips did, too.

"Go back to sleep," Wyatt said softly, still using his thumb to thoughtfully stroke Ambrose's high cheekbone. "We'll be home by morning."

"Home," Ambrose yawned. "That's such a good idea."

*************

When morning broke, they were in sight of Central City. Ambrose had switched sides when they had stopped to give the horse a break and Wyatt yawned only when he was sure that Ambrose was asleep and wouldn't see him.

Far away, in the tower palace was an observatory where Azkadellia peered through a large telescope. She'd begun to make a study of the stars as a diversion and today she was sneaking peeks at the people driving and riding in and out of the city.

"What are you doing?" DG asked, entering the observatory.

"I was finishing my most recent report on the stars in the eastern sky and I confess I've started to look at the people going by," Azkadellia said. DG smiled softly and turned to go when Azkadellia suddenly gasped and called out, "DG! DG, come and see!" DG ran to her sister's side and looked into the telescope as Azkadellia prompted.

"Oh, my God!" DG screeched. "He found him!"

"We have to go and tell mother and father!" Azkadellia said, following DG to the door where both picked up their skirts and ran like the little girls they once were, slowing only when they came near the throne room. They caught their breath, laughed, and then entered, their cheeks pink with the exercise and eyes dancing in happiness.

"Mom!"

"Mother, guess what?"

When Wyatt's horse trotted up to the gates of Central City, the guards applauded and others inside the gates cheered. One guard sent a boy ahead of them to tell the palace that their Captain had returned, his mission a success. The queen and both of her daughters, plus Ahamo and Jeb were waiting impatiently when Wyatt, supporting his companion, walked through the door of the throne room. They were half way to the dais when DG could stand it no longer. She rose from her seat and closed the distance between them with Azkadellia close behind her. Ambrose stumbled a step forward out of Wyatt's arms and into DG and Azkadellia, who held him tightly, told him how much they missed him, and half-heartedly scolded him for running away. Jeb stood and crossed the room to his father, throwing his arms around him.

"Welcome home," Jeb murmured.

"Thank you," Wyatt replied, holding his son tightly.

"For what?" he asked.

"For kicking my ass the other night," Wyatt said, hugging Jeb close again as they laughed. They walked slowly the rest of the way to the dais where they awkwardly bowed and the queen finally stood, biting her lip and trembling as she stepped down from the dais and sank into Ambrose's open arms.

"What's happened to you?" the queen wept softly. "You're burned…"

"It's a long story, your majesty," Ambrose said quietly.

"I want to hear every word as soon as you're recovered," she instructed gently. Ambrose nodded and promised to do so. She slipped slowly from his embrace and squared her shoulders before she added, "I take it that you and Mr. Cain have resolved your differences?" Ambrose turned a brilliant smile to his partner and nodded.

"Yes, your majesty," Ambrose murmured. "I think I can safely say that we have." Ambrose took two steps and Wyatt took one, closing the distance between them and reaching for another kiss only for their noses to collide first. They laughed as Ambrose rubbed the end of his nose and Wyatt took off his hat, lazily tossing it to the floor.

"That was so much less romantic than I had planned," chuckled Ambrose.

"Let's try it again, shall we?" Wyatt teased.

"Absolutely," Ambrose replied.

"I'll lead. You follow," Wyatt teased, grinning as he and Ambrose wrapped their arms around each other and their faces met just right, resulting in a small explosion of applause and cheers from their friends as Wyatt and Ambrose shared a heartwarming kiss.

*************

The night of the princess' ball was clear and cool. Stars blanketed the sky and the sounds of music and merriment seeped from the palace out into the perfect autumn night. It was nearly midnight when Wyatt and Ambrose sneaked out to the balcony for some fresh air.

"You've got quite a sense of rhythm there, scarecrow," Wyatt teased, his hand resting on Ambrose's waist as they walked to the railing. Ambrose grinned and turned, leaning back against the railing and facing Wyatt.

"You know that better than anyone, tin man," Ambrose teased back, making Wyatt blush as he sipped a glass of wine.

"That I do," Wyatt laughed. "That I do." Ambrose turned to face the garden that Wyatt was staring out into and then squinted as he tilted his head to one side.

"What's up?" Wyatt asked.

"Look," Ambrose said, gesturing toward the pavilion in the garden. DG and Jeb were dancing in the light of paper lanterns and fireflies, laughing and blushing in the night air. Wyatt slipped his hand around Ambrose's shoulder and both men smiled.

"What are you watching?" Ahamo asked as he and the queen joined them at the railing.

"Oh, isn't that darling?" the queen murmured. They watched quietly as Jeb led DG to sit down on a bench on the pavilion and took her hands. He kissed her softly and then withdrew something from his pocket. He showed it to her as he sank to his knees in front of her. DG's shock was clear even from the balcony and so was her answer when Jeb stood, he and DG both laughing, and swept her into his arms to swing her around in delirious happiness. The king and queen exchanged pleased smiles with Wyatt and Ambrose. There would be a wedding to plan before the year was out.

"I guess I'll need to give Jeb that promotion now," Wyatt teased.

When DG and Jeb were married that winter, it was before a jam-packed church, flanked by the king, queen and Azkadellia on one side, and Raw, Wyatt and Ambrose on the other. Wyatt and Ambrose smiled at each other as the newlyweds shared the first dance later at the reception. Ambrose was playing with the gold ring on Wyatt's left hand as his own shined in the sunlight.

"Wanna dance, scarecrow?" Wyatt asked softly.

"Oh yes," Ambrose replied.

"You lead—I'll follow," Wyatt said, making Ambrose grin broadly as they joined the other couples sweeping across the floor.

*************

THE END


	2. Bonus Scenes! The Wedding & Honeymoon!

**MISSING SCENES:** _WYATT AND AMBROSE'S WEDDING AND HONEYMOON_

"Jeb?" Wyatt Cain called as he descended the stairs. He was dressed in a white formal uniform far finer than he was used to, and despite Price's help, he felt more uncomfortable than nervous.

"Right here!" Jeb called back, rounding the corner as his father reached the bottom of the stairs. "You look great!"

"I feel ridiculous," Wyatt murmured, not really grumpy but still trying to get comfortable in the stiff new clothing he was wearing.

"Hey," Jeb said softly, making his father look up and meet his eyes. "Smile. I'm proud of you." Jeb busied himself straightening his father's jacket and pinning a rose to the jacket lapel a moment before Wyatt put his hand on the boy's arm and he looked up at him again, both smiling that special occasion grin.

"What for?" Wyatt asked.

"For following your heart," Jeb said quietly. A beat passed between them before Wyatt and Jeb embraced tightly and Wyatt kissed the top of his son's head.

"I love you, son," he said, slowly regaining his composure.

"I love you, too. Come on, Grant has the carriage waiting and we can't be late today," Jeb said. "After all, it's your wedding day." Jeb's suit was similarly fine, and also white, but Jeb seemed to carry off the look with that effortlessness that young people have when they dress to impress. Once they were settled in the carriage, they were off to the palace, the bells in the clock tower chiming merrily as they rode along the streets. Warm gold, red, green, and brown leaves turned the trees into riots of autumn color in the skin-tingling morning sunlight.

*************

"Are they here yet?" Ambrose called, buttoning the last buttons of his uniform coat. He took another look in the mirror and smiled as he smoothed the front of the white coat.

"On their way!" DG replied, entering the room with Azkadellia. The elder princess stepped forward as Ambrose turned to face them and produced a dark red rose to pin on his jacket.

"Thank you, Princess," Ambrose said with a wide smile. Azkadellia lightly kissed Ambrose's cheek, making the royal advisor blush.

"You deserve every happiness in the world, Ambrose," she added. DG preceded them out the door of the room and Ambrose offered his arm to Azkadellia, which she smiled and took.

"I wish the same for you, Princess. A long and arduous journey deserves a peaceful and happy reward," Ambrose said as they went along.

"I only hope that Jeb is that eloquent when I marry him in a few months," DG teased, taking his other arm. Ambrose chuckled. His wide brown eyes shined with happy energy today—after all, it was his wedding day.

*************

"Wyatt and Ambrose have come before us today, expressing a wish to be joined together in a state of matrimony. Love is that refuge of the human heart in which two people, drawn together by what can only be described as destiny…"

As the Bishop spoke, Wyatt lost most of the opening prayer staring off into Ambrose's dark chocolate eyes. They both managed to murmur 'amen' and other necessary responses as their hearts pounded in immeasurable joy. Finally, they were asked to pronounce their vows and Wyatt took Ambrose's hands in his own.

"All that I am and all that I have, I offer to you in love and in joy. From this day forward I will love and comfort you, hold you close, prize you above all others, and remain faithful to you all the days of our lives," Wyatt said, watching Ambrose's eyes start to well with tears. Wyatt swallowed hard—if Ambrose was crying already, he wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer!

"I used to be afraid of falling in love, of giving my heart away. How could I trust someone to love me, to give to me all that I wanted to give to them? When I met you, I realized how much we could share together. You have renewed my life and today I join that life with yours," Ambrose said, clutching Wyatt's hands as the blonde closed his eyes and a tear squeezed out and over his cheek. They exchanged plain gold rings minutes later, each asking the other to accept that ring as a symbol of love and fidelity. Each ring was engraved on the inside with their names and the date, a treasure that would never leave their fingers.

"By the power vested in me, it is my great pleasure to present to you, Wyatt and Ambrose. You may seal your union with a kiss," the Bishop said with a kind smile. The guests applauded as the newlyweds shared a warm, romantic kiss and then processed back up the aisle with the royal family immediately behind them, followed by their other guests.

During the reception and dance, Ahamo caught up to them to congratulate them and slipped them a heavy looking key.

"What's this?" Wyatt asked.

"Your honeymoon accommodations," Ahamo said with a grin.

"But, we weren't going to take a honeymoon vacation. We didn't think we could get away long enough," Ambrose said, champagne bubbling in a flute in his hand.

"Nonsense," Ahamo said. "Her majesty and both princesses *insisted* that I figure out some way for the two of you to get some time alone after the wedding."

"Women," Wyatt muttered good-naturedly, making Ambrose and Ahamo chuckle. Ambrose took the key from Wyatt's hand and examined it. His eyes widened as he looked back at Ahamo.

"Is this what I think it is?" Ambrose asked.

"What's that?" Wyatt asked.

"The summer palace in Finaqua," Ambrose said quietly. Wyatt's eyebrows raised and both men looked at their king-consort in shock.

"Don't bother arguing," Ahamo laughed, "they'd only insist."

"I don't know what to say!" Ambrose stammered, reaching out to shake Ahamo's hand. "Thank you!"

"Thank you," Wyatt added, extending his hand also.

"The girls even went so far as to have everything sent ahead of you. All you two have to do is get there," Ahamo assured them.

"How *are* we getting there?" Wyatt asked a split second before both men looked at each other.

"They didn't," Ambrose said.

"You know them better than that," Wyatt said. Out in front of the palace, decorated with large white flowers and streamers, was Ambrose's car, with the top down and complete with a hand painted "Just Married" sign on the trunk lid. The newlyweds laughed as their guests spilled from the doors to the palace, tossing flower petals and birdseed at them. They laughed harder as they tried to dodge the onslaught and dashed for the car, hopping over the doors of the wide-open convertible and dropping into the seats before Ambrose turned the key and the engine roared to life. Their guests cheered as they waved goodbye in a veritable cloud of flower petals mingled with the loosened autumn leaves from the trees.

Raw dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief as he stood beside DG, watching their friends grow farther and farther away.

"What's wrong, Raw?" DG asked, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Raw has been waiting since we all were first together for this very day," Raw said, smiling proudly.

*************

Once the newlyweds had been given a tour of the palace and grounds, had settled their meal plans for the week, and had finally been left alone, Wyatt was staring out a tall window at the lake beyond the gardens.

"What are you thinking?" Ambrose asked, coming to stand behind him and softly kissing the back of his shoulder while he wound his arms around Wyatt's torso.

"I'm thinking that there's hours of sun left and the lake has been warming up all day," Wyatt said.

"You want to swim? Now?" Ambrose said, a bit shocked.

"Sure I do," Wyatt said. "I'll bet it's just about like bath water by now." He was off and walking toward the lake with Ambrose still babbling behind him. Ambrose stopped near a large boulder just this side of the beach and watched as Wyatt eagerly tugged, pushed and unbuttoned his way out of his fine suit and jumped head-long into the water. He stayed down longer than Ambrose was comfortable with, but before he could call Wyatt's name, the aforementioned returned to the surface, wet blonde hair plastered to his head and a smile on his face.

"It's amazing!" Wyatt called, backstroking further out. "What are you waiting for?"

"I…I don't much feel like swimming tonight…I'll just watch you," Ambrose said awkwardly.

"Oh, come on!" Wyatt pouted. "I just married you! Come swimming with me!" A second later he recognized the look on his newlywed groom's face.

"You can't swim, can you?"

Ambrose sat down on the boulder and took Wyatt's abandoned jacket in his hands, smoothing the wrinkles and then spontaneously taking a deep breath in the fabric, calmed a little by the scent of Wyatt's musky aftershave. Wyatt treaded water for a moment and then took long strokes until he was closer to the shore.

"Come on," Wyatt said more gently. "Let me teach you." Ambrose bit his tongue nervously and remained where he was in terror.

"Ambrose," Wyatt called, "I love you." Wyatt's declaration making him a little bolder, Ambrose finally pulled off his boots and loosened his collar. Seconds later, he tentatively waded into the water to where the depth suddenly dropped off and then gasped as he plunged quickly over his head. Wyatt dove immediately to retrieve him and came up with Ambrose in his arms sputtering and coughing and clinging to Wyatt for dear life.

"You're fine, Ambrose. Just breathe…just breathe, sweetheart," Wyatt said with a grin, leaning back in the water and kissing the side of Ambrose's head as he rested against Wyatt's shoulder, finally breathing normally again. "Now, lesson number one—treading water," Wyatt said. An hour later, Ambrose was keeping up with Wyatt as they swam laps to the middle of the lake and back.

"Thank you," Ambrose said suddenly as they relaxed in the middle of the lake for a moment. He rolled onto his back and floated in place for a while, staring up at the sparse clouds turning pink in the fading sunlight. Wyatt joined him and smiled as he replied, "Consider us even—you taught me to dance."

*************

They walked back to the palace arm in arm, grinning and laughing, heedless that the maids were smiling and quietly making themselves scarce. When they reached their bedroom, Ambrose took his time arranging their wet clothes near the fire to dry. Wyatt smiled at this and joined him on that side of the room, setting his hands on Ambrose's waist while he softly kissed his neck. The suns had set and now the fire was the only light in the room save for a few candles in sconces on the walls and a small arrangement of them on the bedside table.

"Are you ready for bed?" Wyatt murmured against the warm, smooth skin of Ambrose's neck. Ambrose's eyes were closed as Wyatt's hands moved to encircle his waist. It felt so good to be close to him, to be held, to let himself be loved…surely no woman who had rejected him in the past could have filled his heart the way Wyatt did now. Something stirred low inside Ambrose; between the warm fire, the gentle pressure of Wyatt's kisses, and the protective embrace of his arms he could already feel that it wouldn't be long.

"Wyatt," Ambrose choked out, his breath quickening. He could feel the curve of Wyatt's smile.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Wyatt asked, gently starting to rock from one side to the other. "You're not nervous are you?"

"You're not?" Ambrose asked, his voice starting to tremble.

"Well, yes, a little, but the learning curve is a little unavoidable so I figure it doesn't pay to really worry about it," Wyatt replied. "Are you okay?"

"I…well, that is to say…" Ambrose stammered.

"You're a virgin?"

Ambrose said nothing in response but simply bit his lip and nodded. Wyatt chuckled softly and hugged Ambrose tightly.

"I think DG said that on the other side, men like me are called 'geeks'. I'm not sure what that all entails, but—"

Ambrose never finished his sentence. Wyatt had turned him to face him and closed his mouth over Ambrose's in a fear-silencing kiss. Ambrose relaxed into this kiss and draped his arms around Wyatt's neck while Wyatt himself slowly undid the buttons of Ambrose's shirt. When Wyatt broke the kiss and pushed Ambrose's still damp shirt off his shoulders, Ambrose was shaking.

"This part's easy, scarecrow," Wyatt said soothingly, brushing his nose against Ambrose's and kissing him again. "Relax…we're both bound to make mistakes tonight." By this time both of them were showing evidence of readiness and Ambrose finally took the initiative to slip his hands beneath Wyatt's shirt and kiss him in return. In the next few minutes, Ambrose and Wyatt took great care in disrobing one another and slowly moving toward the bed. It was far larger than they needed and sumptuously decorated, and, as Ambrose found out moments later, it was as soft and comfortable as it looked. Wyatt was covering his collar bones and chest in kisses, sending him into delirium. Wyatt's hand slipped beneath his head and he pulled his beloved into another soothing kiss before stopping to catch his breath and smile.

"You know, if you tell me what you like, this might be a little more productive," Wyatt teased.

"If I knew I could tell you," Ambrose gasped as Wyatt nipped his neck.

"You've never even—"

"Heavens, no!"

"Oh, Ambrose…" Wyatt said sympathetically. With one hand still behind Ambrose's head, he slipped the other hand down Ambrose's hip and was rewarded with his whimper and a thrust of his hips against his own. Ambrose came hard, his body spasming in orgasm. Wyatt was somewhere between amusement and surprise—if Ambrose really was so easy to arouse, it was going to be an interesting night.

"I've disappointed you now, haven't I?" Ambrose murmured, one arm flung above his head and the other resting on his chest as Wyatt sat back. "We didn't even really do anything yet and I've finished already!" Wyatt smiled and leaned over him again, pressing a soft kiss against Ambrose's forehead.

"Oh, you're not finished by a long-shot. I'm not even close to being done with you," Wyatt chuckled.

"I thought you said you'd never done this before," Ambrose asked softly.

"I haven't, but I know what pleasures me, and I can start there. If I do something you don't like, stop me," Wyatt said. "That's all there is to it." Ambrose considered this as he traced his long fingers over Wyatt's shoulder and bicep.

"If you already know what you like, why don't you teach me to do it to you instead? I feel terrible that I haven't performed up to spec and it's our wedding night," Ambrose proposed.

"No, not yet. I want you to be comfortable with yourself and what feels good to you before we think about me," Wyatt said. He would spend nearly the rest of the night physically explaining his point, bringing Ambrose to climax again and again before exhaustion claimed them and they fumbled to snuggle in beneath the covers. Ambrose sank into Wyatt's arms and the two were quickly asleep in the still warm firelight that danced in the fireplace.

*************

As the light of the first of the O.Z.'s twin suns warmed the room, Ambrose stretched and took a deep breath. During the night, both of them had rolled over and now Wyatt's left arm was wrapped snuggly around him, securing him to his place with his back against Wyatt's chest. When Ambrose stretched, Wyatt shifted, rolling onto his back and slipping back to sleep. Ambrose rolled over to face him and smiled—even when he was relaxing, he never looked quite so at peace as he did when he was asleep. Carefully, Ambrose sat up and leaned over his lover, slowly lowering his lips to tenderly kiss the middle of Wyatt's bare chest, directly over his heartbeat. A smile tugged up the corners of Wyatt's lips and Ambrose rolled his eyes up to look at him.

"Good morning," Ambrose said softly.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Wyatt said, tangling his hand in Ambrose's curls. The newlyweds spent a few minutes cuddling and kissing before finally deciding to get up for the day. There was fishing to be done, walks to be taken, horses to ride and fine meals to be had before they would once again retire to the warmth of their bed. A week was gone before they knew it, and Wyatt and Ambrose found themselves on their way back to the city, rested, refreshed, and eager to return to work.

*************

"Why, Ambrose!" the queen called happily when Ambrose arrived for duty on their first morning home. "You are positively glowing!" Ambrose was smiling from ear to ear when he knelt at the queen's feet and kissed her hand when she offered it.

"Love does that to a person," Ambrose replied shyly.

"If I'd known you'd be so much improved, I'd have married you off years ago!" the queen teased. Ambrose laughed softly.

"With all due respect, I'm glad you didn't!" Ambrose teased in return. She laughed a melody that echoed on the air before asking after Wyatt.

"Oh, he's in the training yard this morning. He's eager to see if the men have been keeping up with their training while we were gone. While I'm here, thank you again, from both of us, for the use of the palace in Finaqua. It really was more than we could have asked for." Ambrose said.

"It was our pleasure. How else could we reward two of the people who helped to restore our daughters to us?" the queen said.

"And *that* was our pleasure, your majesty," Ambrose replied with a deep bow. The queen was laughing again.

"Off you go now, to your inventions. I will ring for you if I need you today," the queen said with a nod of her head.

"Good day, your majesty," Ambrose said with a grin as he turned and strode out of the throne room.

*************

"Dad!" Jeb called when Wyatt entered the courtyard. Wyatt smiled despite several men looking a bit disdainfully at Jeb for calling their captain 'dad' while they trained. The Cain men smiled, clasped arms at the elbow, and then briefly embraced.

"How was the honeymoon?" Jeb asked as they walked.

"Amazing," Wyatt said. "Did *you* know that they were planning that?"

"Of course! I seconded the idea," Jeb teased.

"You could have said something," Wyatt replied, still smiling.

"Hey, I was sworn to secrecy by three women—there was no way out," Jeb said as his father laughed.

"If the reunion is over, Captain, the men are in formation and ready to begin," another officer said, falling into step beside them.

"No need to be so short, Lewis. He was just saying good morning," Wyatt said, maintaining his smile but mentally noting the comment. He would need to talk to Jeb and see what the sentiment was amongst the men concerning the recent wedding and Jeb's presence on the guard. If there were many others who were as sensitive about it as Lewis was, he would need to make some adjustments. Wyatt wasn't worried about too much on this sunny Monday morning. He came to the front of the guard and Jeb slipped into his place as Wyatt shouted, "Good morning, men!"

*************


End file.
